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My sweet tortured love

My sweet tortured love

The dreaded tick tock, tick tock of the clock. It crys out in the blaring silence. I cannot sleep. I lay back on the cushiony pillows nustled so snug in my blankets. I am so content, yet so tortured. The valium has set in and I have a sweet surrender about my body. I wonder how long it will last. I hope forever. I love the sweet feeling. Candy coated fake temporary happiness because nothing can touch me now. I clutch the phone in my hand-in the dark. I will it to ring yet it does not. My legs are sore and my red hair keeps growing like wild fire. I just want to hear his voice. His voice is real and true and produces genuine happiness from within me. Not candy coated fake stuff. He loves my ragged hair, and I'm sure if he was here my legs wouldn't matter. They would be wrapped around his body. The phone does not ring though. I am left alone with my thoughts and dingy walls with spider like cracks. The fish tank needs cleaned. He would be so disapointed. He is not here though. He is fighting. More miserable than I will ever know. I can see him now decked out in his camoflague, gun in hand, twisted face, chilled limbs. He is so brave. I wish he could break me off some courage. I really need it now. I lay useless in my bed. I have to work in 3 hours. I have not slept. Poor love of mine. That is all I can think. Hes more tortured than a cat with no claws or a dog with no growl. Only 3 more months untill hes back. Can I handle it? Of course, I have to. I have diminished to a deaf mute doll lately. The world carries on all around me. I am in this world, but I hardly feel like it. Days swirl by and I remain cold as stone. No smiles over here. I try to think positive, but I emit such pain that I think the whole world got a taste of it. I operate like a robot with rigidness, calculated and controlled steps. I'm blank as the other side of white paper. I break down. I cry. If only Matt could hold me. He must hold his gun for now though. I try to tell myself the world needs him more than I do, but I feel selfish and dismiss the thought and continue lamenting my sorrows inside. If only he would walk through my door. . . right now. Wouldn't that be glorious? Then the world could feel my joy rather than my pain. He could join my dingy walls and make it all dissapear. I must wait though. For now I'm left with the fish-Simon, and I think I'll clean his tank.

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USCG News

25 May 2019

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